Chapter Text
Trott usually had a good idea of what would be on the other side of his front door when he opened it. It was one of three things: the pizza guy; a court member or potential court member; or someone dropping off bowling stuff for Sips.
He was surprised when he opened the door to, what appeared at first glance, a floating lasagna. A second look showed that a kneeling man was holding it aloft, his head down turned to stare at the carpet.
“Can I help you?” Trott heard the bewilderment in his own voice.
The man looked up to reveal an infectious smile and a bushy beard.
“Is this the residence of the Garbage court?”
“Depends who’s asking.” Trott’s mind worked in overdrive as he felt for a magical aura, not finding one he asked, “What’s your business?”
“I am the one they call Turps, I have brought a gift of my own free will as an offering,” he jiggled the lasagna slightly, “in the hope we could discuss a trade, a mutually beneficial arrangement.” Trott carefully removed the lasagna from Turps’ grasp. It smelled and looked like lasagna, he far as he could tell there was no magical ingredients or curses on it.
“Did you make it yourself?”
“Of course! Using only the finest ingredients sourced locally,” he winked, “the supermarket just across the road from my house.”
Trott held Turps’ gaze, looking for twitches or flickers that would indicate charm magic or concealments. “I accept your offering. Why don’t you join us for dinner?” He stepped back from the door, Turps clumsily stood on stiff legs and stumbled through.
“Guest for dinner, his treat!” Trott called, the promise of food alway encouraged everyone to make an appearance.
“It better be good because Ross was gonna make shepherds pie, and that’s practically an orgasm in your mouth.” Sips’ was sprawled across his favourite armchair, eyes unmoving from the ‘Homes under the hammer’ re-run playing silently on the TV.
“His majesty, our wonderful garbage court king, Sips,” Trott introduced dryly, “This is Turps, bringer of lasagna.”
“My liege,” Turps once again fell to his knees, this time in front of Sips armchair-cum-throne, “forgive this mere human’s informality, I do not completely know your ways.”
“Eh, I don’t either, I think it’s mostly shit they make up to annoy me. None of that mere human crap either, that’s where I started now look at me, pants-less on a Tuesday, I’m living the dream.” Sips gestured to his bowling ball boxers to emphasise his point.
Turps looked blankly at him, unsure how to respond, before starting suddenly. He fell backwards onto his bum as a stony tail snaked out from the other side of the arm chair to wrap around Sips’ ankle. Sips shook it off,
"I need to go to the kitchen, you’ll trip me up again.”
Turps marvelled as as a gargoyle poked it’s head over the arm rest that was supporting Sips’ legs, pouting at the king.
“But, how am I suppose to know when you’ve left if I can’t feel you leaving?”
“I’ll make sure to inform you of all my movements in the future, but for now I’m starving.”
He winked and used Ross’ head to stand up, the gargoyle scrambling to stand and walk after him. The gargoyle was practically glued to his side the entire way to the kitchen.
“Come on Turps, lasagna’s getting cold.”
Ross set the table, aided by a Smith who needed constant ‘reminders’ to not stare hungrily at their guest. After the third time he’d ‘accidentally’ brushed up against Turps, Trott had sat Smith down at the table. Trott raised his glass of apple juice once everyone had been served a plate of lasagna.
“To the health of the meal provider,” he caught Turps’ eye, “may his dealings be fair and his tongue honest.”
“Or we’ll eat him alive.” Smith shot Turps a ferocious grin, earning him a swift kick in the shins from Trott.
Turps let everyone dig in for a moment before getting straight to the point. “I own a pub.”
Smith instantly perked up, “What, like a nightclub?”
“No, a pub. Quiet music, beer on tap, spirits poured generously, creepy regulars in the corner.” Turps shrugged, “You can’t get rid of them, I’m pretty sure they come with the furniture.”
Trott eyed him suspiciously, Turps couldn’t help but feel like his eyes were looking right through him to the bone. “And in whose court does it lay, or do you pay your dues to?”
“None.”
Trott choked slightly on his pasta. “Impossible, the whole city is divided up.”
“My bar isn’t in the city.” Turps shrugged.
“Fuck me, I’m not about to wander out into the middle of nowhere for a pint.” Smith said, “I’d rather take my chances in one of the court controlled holes nearby.”
“Its in a pocket realm, technically accessible from anywhere with a door.” Turps gesticulated wildly, almost knocking over his glass as he mimed ‘pocket realm’. Ross moved the glass to save it from any further excitement.
“And where are these doors?” Trott put his fork down, ignoring his food. “These doors have to be on someones turf.”
Turps smirked, “Thats the beauty of it. I’m offering a door to everyone, well, everyone who agrees to abide by the rules anyway, completely neutral territory where everyone is welcome.”
“What kind of rules would you be enforcing?” Trott leaned back, arms crossed.
“Oh, nothing too drastic. No fae bullshit basically, no territory squabbling, allegiances left at the door, nothing you wouldn’t expect from neutral territory.”
Trott scoffed, “And why would anyone follow these rules? You’re mostly human, as far as I can tell anyway. I’ll give you a week before someone's taken you over and claimed the pub as their own territory.”
“Don’t you worry yourself, I have,” he paused, gesturing like he was trying to pull the word out of the air, “connections.” He settled on finally. “All I am here to do is ask you to host one of my doors, that's it. You get a little bit of money to compensate you for the increase traffic through your court and I get customers. I’ll even make one of your fae deal things to prove no ill will on my part.”
“Will you have trivia nights?” Trott blinked rapidly, breaking his stare into Turps’ soul to look at Sips.
“Trivia nights?” Turps broke out into a grin, “Of course we will, its not a pub without at least one trivia night a week. I’m even looking into getting a guy for karaoke but you would’t believe how difficult that is, did you know there isn’t a single fae karaoke business in the whole city?”
“Well thats just fuckin’ ridiculous, someone needs to fill the gap in the market.”
“Basic supply and demand right? I’ve been looking into non-fae alternatives but its not really worth the hassle and the travel fees.”
Trott rubbed his face with his right hand, “We’re going to have to talk it over as a court, but I feel our king is amenable to your idea.”
“Of course, I’ll be eagerly waiting your decision at your earliest convenience.” Turps stood, bowing to them all once again, narrowly missing the half eaten plate of lasagna still in front of him. “If you could kindly return the lasagna dish at the same time that’d be handy.”